Wishes Made In War
by RusNydia
Summary: After the War is over Harry simply wants to be with his dead beloved and, with a bit of powerful magic and a wish, perhaps he can be. However, being careful what you wish for still applies in the magical word. Snarry.
1. Chapter 1

All-round yaoi fan girl requested this and I decided to start posting now because its the date I gave and I want to start. I am very sure that I can handle it quite well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make money from any of this.

Warning (these will go chapter by chapter): Violence, slash, cheese, profanity

(**)

The man stood tall among his people, head held high as he looked upon the men and women that had chosen to fight with him. After so many years of allowing the name of one man strike fear into their very cores, the people of the wizarding world were ready to join together and fight back. Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons stood facing the young man.

He was their fearless leader even though he was practically a baby compared to others in the magical community. He was a mere twenty years old but he looked beyond his years as his tired green eyes passed over the dirty warriors that stood before him. There were those within the large group that remembered a time when there were large green eyes staring from behind round glasses—light and curious as the boy had his first taste of magic. Of course those that remembered those times also remembered the death that the boy was forced to witness, the blood that was poured onto his young hands.

"I know that you are tired. I know that you are frightened," he started, his voice strong as he spoke to his army. Oh how he hated to think of these people as an army. They were not soldiers and he was not a leader but there was no other choice. If they were to win then he had to be the messiah they had all wished for as the darkness engulfed them. He had to be the leader with a cloak of light to rid the world of the dark stench that suppressed them all.

"I will not lie and tell you that there is nothing to be frightened of. Tomorrow will either mark the day that we all die or the day that we rise above this muck that we find ourselves drowning in," the man continued. He faltered in his speech, unshed tears burning the back of his determined eyes.

He gazed upon the children that were just barely legal standing among their mothers, fathers, friends and families. He knew that tomorrow that those same children would either all die or turn into hardened monsters that cared not for anything but the next breath they took. This was the only way—this battle… this carnage that would probably cause the dirt to stain red for years to come.

As the young man's mind began to swirl around with such thoughts, he felt a thin hand land on his shoulders. He did not flinch, knowing the warmth immediately but instead he turned his head to look at the older, shorter man before him. This man was almost the only thing that pushed him along and forced him to continue the fight that had nearly left his war beaten body.

This man was their best physician and one of his best friends, Severus Snape. A small smile twisted the man's thin lips as he squeezed the square, broad shoulder of his younger companion. The man stepped to Harry's side and looked down at the same people that peered up at them. He took a deep breath and continued on for the younger man.

"I believe that Mr. Potter is attempting to give an encouraging speech without lying. It is hard to do so for there is nothing heartening concerning the prospect of meeting one's end in such a vicious way," Severus started and Harry shook his head mentally. In the past there was probably a time in which Harry would honestly question his wisdom of allowing Snape of all people to give a pre-battle speech but he trusted the man who was practically an expert with words.

"This thing, for Voldemort is not a man, threatens to destroy the very fabric in which lives are created. He has already taken away our homes, our freedom, and our light. The monster will attack this castle when the full moon is at its highest, allowing the werewolves on both sides free reign. However it is not the fight that should guide your dreams tonight. It is not the blood that shall be spilled or the spells that shall be thrown that should cloud your thoughts.

It is the outcome—what we shall achieve with our sacrifice. It is our act of taking a stand—of fighting for what is just. If there is fear in any of your hearts, remember that we are all scared but we are also _determined_. Determined to _take back_ what is _ours_ not only for ourselves but for _future_ generations. We are _determined_ to not allow this… this _contamination_ to leak into the other Magical Communities. We are _determined_ to make sure that the name of magic is not defiled by this madman. We are _determined_ to WIN!"

By the end of the speech, the crowd was clapping, their cheers reaching the ceiling and as Harry looked up he realized that maybe… just maybe they could win this war.

(**)

"Mate, Snape giving a speech is not the most surprising thing in the world but… I still find it hard to believe that the man can _cook_ like this," Ron, the strategist of their army and Harry's other best friend, murmured over his dinner, shoveling in the food that a group of wizards with a hand at cooking (Severus overseeing and 'fixing') had cooked in bulk. They were all eating as well as they could, taking strengthening potions and anything that would help their chances of not losing. Harry smiled tightly and poked at his food. He was trying to take his thoughts away from the black haired Potions Master. Ron sighed and put down his fork, reaching over to grab the rough, square hand.

"Harry… I just want you to know, if I don't make—," Ron started to say.

"Please, don't talk like that," Harry cut off immediately. The last thing that Harry wanted to think about was the death of his first friend. Ronald had been with him in the very beginning, not even leaving (mentally or physically) when Hermione died after her first transformation. Ron had nearly died when that happened, mourning her death by howling his sorrow at the full moon but he stayed within the fold of Light Wizards and fought even harder to destroy Voldemort. There hadn't been anything that any of them could do to save Hermione, she just wasn't strong enough, and Ron seemed to have accepted that in the last two years.

"Listen mate, I'm not saying that I'm going to drop dead but I just want you to know that… you are my best friend. You are family, through and through. I love you just as much as I love any of my brothers or sister," Ron said to the green eyed boy, looking deep into his eyes. Harry smiled and the tears that he had been holding back began to make their way down his cheeks. He grabbed the equally rough hand before him and held it tightly, relaying the same message without saying a single word.

"I absolutely hate sappy moments that young people seem so fond of, I can practically feel the syrup coursing through my veins," a velvety voice said behind Harry. The young man turned in his seat, pushing a long lock of hair behind his ear so that he could greet the motivation speaker himself. Severus held a bowl in his nimble hands, balancing his hot dinner with perfect ease.

"Oh don't be a party pooper, Snape—it is our last day," Fred protested, popping up next to the willowy man as he and his twin were prone to do. He threw an arm around a thin shoulder, smiling brightly as his twin appeared on the other side and did the same thing, nearly knocking the man's food out of his hands.

"Exactly and if you're negative then everything else is negative so you gotta smile, mate," George added with a blinding parody of a grin. They guided the man to sit between them and they settled next to Harry on the long, spacious bench. Although a lot of the witches and wizard expected Harry to lead them to victory, they also had a hard time of seeing him as a normal man that liked human company just as much as the next wizard. Harry had tried to explain to him that he was just like them. He was not all-powerful; he was not a God. Yes he was slightly more powerful than the average wizard but Harry suspected that was from Snape and Moody pushing him to the edge and then kicking him off of it.

"I doubt that anyone could accuse me of being 'negative'. I run an orphanage," Severus commented dryly. Ron nearly choked on the Wolfsbane that Pansy had handed him, earning a raised brow from the dark haired man and several questioning looks from those around him. Ron blushed and downed the disgusting potion, nearly choking once more at the foul taste before he finally came to his senses and explained his outburst.

"I just had this weird vision of Snape in bright colors and running through a field of rainbow flowers and smiling while singing about peace," Ron stated, chuckling as the image replanted itself into his head. Fred and George glanced at each other from around the thin man and then at the man who was still slightly confused as to what any of them had said to get to such a topic before they burst into simultaneous laughter. They nearly pounded on the table as their stomachs tightened and their joy echoed in the Great Hall.

No one knew the cause of the laughter but it was something that they were sorely in need of so they joined in the merriment by laughing too. Soon faces were nearly covered in tears as happiness came to the faces of the men, women, and children that would soon be forced to fight for their freedom.

"Honestly, one would think that we weren't going to have the largest battle tomorrow night and possibly die," Pansy muttered darkly under her breath as she plopped herself down next to Ron who was still chuckling even though the laughter had died down to murmurs of talking that were definitely louder than the silence that had over taken the Hall.

"I suppose that is the glory of laughing now," Severus finished his food in one last bite before downing a nutrition potion. Harry smiled softly as he realized that the man had not taken any hard feelings of any of them laughing. He nibbled his bottom lip and he swore that if he lived to see the rising sun after that devastating battle, he'd have a talk with Severus. Harry ran a hand through his long black hair, dragging it into its custom low ponytail. He idly wished that a certain set of long pale fingers would have done it instead but he pushed the thought out of his mind. After the battle… after the battle and they'd talk.

"Do not stay up late into the evening," Kingsley came over to warn the small group. Harry nodded, along with the rest before swiftly downing his potions and finishing his food. They had an important night tomorrow and a long day preparing for it.

(**)

It was horrible.

The howls of werewolves, screams of humans, and whistling of bows soaring through the noisy sky roared in Harry's ears as he dashed through the battlefields. They were losing. The battle had just begun but they were losing already. How had they not seen it? How had they not known that there was a traitor in their midst?

A traitor that lay behind the round face of a brown eyed Ravenclaw who had smiled at him just the evening before. Harry snarled and dodged the purple curse that had been aiming for his head, coming back with a hex that sent the curly haired Death Eater soaring through the sky and into an attacking werewolf. The beast jumped on her immediately, tearing into the witch's throat even though she was on his side. It had no control like their own werewolves that took their potion.

"Cho, you traitorous _bitch_!" Harry heard a feminine voice shout. It was a voice he knew well, one that was usually so airy and gentle but was now a deadly hiss as the blond whipped her wand viciously and the Ravenclaw barely dodged, her arm falling to the ground with a great waterfall of blood. Luna did not bother to stand and watch as Cho bled to death, grabbing at her severed limb to stop the bleeding but it obviously wasn't working. Instead she turned to her next opponent, victory on her mind.

"Luna, get down!" Ginny tackled the blond to the ground just in time for a sickly yellow spell to soar past their heads and hit the centaur behind them. Harry frowned as a feeling of relief coursed through his body and winced as a sharp blade sunk into his shoulders. He had to concentrate and be aware of his own battles instead of everyone else's. Harry set the wizard ablaze, happy that his screams did not last too long as the demonic fire ate his body into dust.

Then Harry was facing the feral werewolf that he immediately recognized as Fenrir. Harry tensed, knowing that most of his spells would not work and the ones that would took a lot of energy—the kind of energy that he needed to defeat the monster that was the cause of all of this. Fenrir growled and jumped at him, fangs bared and foam flowing from his muzzle.

Before he could get close to Harry, the werewolf was tackled by another creature like itself. Harry immediately recognized the russet fur that belonged to Ron and gave a sigh of relief, dashing forward in the fray. Harry pushed his way through the chaos, taking out as many as he could until he reached an empty space—a space where he knew that the thing that was causing all of these horrors was lurking about somewhere.

Harry stepped forward carefully, the sounds of raging battle falling into the backgrounds of his mind. He held his wand in a tight grip and carefully listened for the murderer that had to be close by in this clearing among the trees. It was only obvious that Voldemort not step foot into the actual battle lest some wayward spell struck him down by pure chance.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry spun around just in time to see the emerald green come flying at him from somewhere in the trees' depths. His eyes widened in helpless horror as his death came flying towards him. He could not move away from it or deflect it. His mouth was dry with his own fear and self-disappointment for he failed those that believed in him.

"NOOOOO!"

Harry found himself on the ground and something inside him cracked and wept bitter black tears as the green spell enveloped the black haired man he had come to cherish. Harry scrambled to catch the falling man's body, nearly wailing as he caught sight of the unseeing black eyes and slightly opened mouth, stuck in its eternal scream.

"No, Severus—please, don't be dead! Why did you protect me!?" Harry sobbed, tears running down his tanned cheeks. They landed on the unflinching eyes of his dead friend. He dropped his forehead onto the cooling forehead of the older man. He began to tell the man what he had wanted to tell him for the longest. "Severus, I love you. Please don't leave me. Please! I love you so much!"

"Look at poor, pitiful Potter crying over a dead traitorous _bitch_," the slimy voice of the Dark Lord wrapped around him, molesting his ears. Harry sobbed over the thin body he held. Severus had sacrificed so much for the war, allowing his very soul to be tarnished because of the war that he wanted so badly to end. He had put everything on hold, allowing himself to be spat on and beaten to please two masters that never gave a damn about him. Harry had cared. Harry had loved the man with all the love his body held. He loved him with all of his heart and yet it had been in vain. Severus still threw himself in front of his own stupid danger.

"Did you get into the little bitch's pants too? He was not a bad lay after a long day… I wonder if the Old Fool slipped into his tight body on his days off. No, no… no one would want such filth. It is a bit like drinking water from an oily _cup_," Voldemort continued his taunting as he stepped from beyond the shadows. Harry used two fingers to slide the pale eyelids over the dead orbs that he loved so much to look into.

"I am willing to bet that you never even told him of your pathetic feelings of love, did you?" Voldemort spat, walking until he stood but two feet in front of the wretched boy and the dead spy. The long arms continued to hug the limp body, large hands holding tightly to the cooling shoulders. Voldemort sneered at the bowed head and pointed his wand at the pathetic excuse for a savior. He didn't say the killing curse, no, he wanted to look into those pitiful green eyes and watch as they turned glassy with his final breath.

"Look at me, you pathetic worm," Voldemort hissed, bending just enough so that his pristine white fingers could wrap as firmly as possible in the long, black locks. He yanked hard, bringing the sun kissed face to the moonlight's bath and the green orbs he wished to pluck before his gaze. Tears were drying on his cheeks and he looked like the little boy that he was. Voldemort smirked and fell to his knees, forcing the boy to look down at the cold corpse he still held in his tense arms.

"Do you want to know the best part about fucking his dirty, useless body?" Voldemort mused, using his wand to card through the long inky hair. He remembered the silken feeling of it as he tied it around his closed fist and pulled as hard as he could. He remembered the onyx eyes pleading silently for it to end but most of all… Voldemort remembered…

"His screams."

(**)

It was like a snap. Or maybe it was a complete shatter that echoed through his entire body until it found its way to his orifices. He held it in as long as he could; he did not want to move too much unless he disturbed the corpse of his love. The words that Voldemort spat at him were barely audible in his drowning misery that desperately wanted to find its way out. He wouldn't let it because there was nothing for him, nothing—

He… it… it was touching him. It was touching his Severus, smiling nastily down on him with its red eyes gleaming with a memory. Red eyes gleaming of a time that it hurt his Severus over and over… calling him dirty. His love for him… pathetic? Oily cup? What… what was it talking about…?

"Do you want to know the best part about fucking his dirty, useless body?" No, Harry didn't want to know. He wanted to allow the fire that had built up inside to simply burn away his body until there was nothing left—until the dirt and the trees were the only thing that remember him and his love. Harry wanted to die peacefully and join his love.

"His screams. Oh he made the loveliest screams though it took a lot to make them happen. It took a lot of men to make him scream. Sometimes we would go days without hearing those pretty tunes…"

He would not sit here and allow this… this _animal_ speak like that! He refused to hear such horrible things that were done to his Severus. His love—he loved that man and he would kill this beast for hurting him whether that hurt have been several minutes ago to years in the past.

The fire that was wreaking havoc inside his body was suddenly released, a white light flooding from his eyes, nose and mouth. He could feel the power pouring and his vengeful love wrapping around Voldemort to set ablaze to him from the inside out. An agonized scream erupted from the beast's throat but it ended with a hysterical cackle. Harry narrowed his eyes and poured more of the fire into the man but was shocked as darkness exploded from the man. It viciously attacked Harry's fire but the green eyed boy cared not. He knew that he would win no matter the cost. He poured more of himself into his mission to rid the world of this smear on life.

"Look at what you do to your people, Potter!" Voldemort suddenly guffawed. Harry glanced over his shoulder to see what the beast prattled on about. To his immense shock, the battle had ceased. Every wizard, witch, and werewolf had their heads turned up to them and something was being pulled from their mouths, ears, and eyes.

The Death Eaters were starting to drop like flies, their bodies' empty husks as the black mist fueled Voldemort and pushed at the fire that fought against it. The same happened with Harry's people except their power went to him. Harry knew that he was doing this to them—he was killing them. He released a loud gasp as Tonks fell to the ground, her large brown eyes staring lifelessly up at him. Ron's wolf body fell next, then Tucker Potts, Minerva McGonagall. They were all dying and feeding Harry their power. He could feel himself becoming stronger; feel his magic happily swallowing theirs. He had to stop it, had to save them from him.

"You'll keep fighting until they are all dead! All of this for a dead little bitch not worth the air he sucked on? You'll siphon their souls out and become stronger and stronger but then… won't you be so much more like me? It's the only way to win, Potter." Voldemort taunted.

"NOOOOOO!" Harry bellowed, ripping his magic free from the surviving witches and wizards. He poured his very being into attacking the beast, enveloping the extra power around it and crushing it before the beast had time to counterattack. It worked spectacularly, disintegrating the thing within minutes.

Then Harry felt so very weak. He could feel his body falling thousands of feet to the ground, knew that he would either die or survive but he had nothing to live for any longer. There was no purpose for him to be in this land. He lost the love of his life, killed his best friend, and did his heroic deed that they had all wanted him to do.

He no longer belonged in this world, with these people. Harry closed his eyes and he prayed that he would somehow not land in this world, that he would find somewhere else to be. Find somewhere he could live happily with his Severus Snape.

(**)

The End

Now let's hope that this is not cliché!


	2. Chapter 2

Let's get this show on the road! So I updated this because I've been gone for so long (like two weeks) and I can't really see and this chapter was already written. Hope you all ENJOY!

(**)

He frowned at the surrounding darkness. He had always been in the dark as a kid, stuck in that tiny cupboard with its dust and spiders, hearing everyone walking up and down the stairs, sprinkling him with more dust then his little lungs could handle. Harry took a deep breath to remind himself that he was no longer in that cupboard so he had nothing to fear.

Actually Harry felt as though he weren't even truly awake. He stretched slightly, knowing that this could take a while and he was in no hurry. He pondered his feeling of near dread. His instincts told him that if he opened his eyes (he was now sure that he wasn't conscious) he probably wouldn't like his situation at all.

The fact that he remembered only made it that much worse… he remembered the death of his Severus. He remembered the taunts from that foul beast and the tears he shed. He remembered the people he killed, the magic he stole, and the wish he made. Harry wanted to fall onto his side and simply die silently if that was possible. A quiet death so that he could be with his Severus for eternity.

"Where'd you get this guy? He's an odd looking one. It says he's only in his 20s but he's got a white streak…"

Harry frowned in his sad darkness as a light began to beam down on his head, beckoning him to awaken. A voice that sounded oddly like Severus' told him that these voices, the ones in the light, were not for his benefit. Their accents were similar to his but they were not friends.

"You wouldn't believe it, Xenia! I was out, minding me own business when, outta nowhere, this guy falls out of the sky, out of the SKY!"

It sounded like two women, Harry surmised. And a gut feeling told him that they were definitely talking about him. He let out a sigh sadly, it looked like where ever he had gone at the end of the battle, was definitely not where he wanted. Severus certainly wasn't a woman named Xenia and he didn't think that Heaven or Hell allowed people to fall from the sky. His wish had not come true and Harry was not too surprise that it happened. Nothing ever went his way.

"Out of the sky… are you sure? Let me smell your breath because I'm sure I can smell some expired draughts. You know what they do to you, Echo… they turn you into a damn loon."

He doubted Severus was a woman named Echo either. Maybe he should awaken so he can ask her how he fell out of the sky or why he wasn't dead. Dammit, wherever he was, he most definitely wasn't normal. It was impossible for Harry to be normal or to, at the very least, have a moment to mourn properly. He wanted to curl into a ball and never uncurl from it.

"I told you I wouldn't drink anymore of those draughts. Besides, I'm telling you Xenia, this guy came _fallin'_ right out of the sky. And I checked his blood as usual. It came back with a mudblood mum but his da wasn't. He still gotta fight, dun 'e?"

Fight? What were they talking about!? Harry did not want to fight. He wanted to be left in peace for Merlin's sake. The young man stood up and looked to the light. He had to wake up and leave these two women's vicinity before they did odd things to him. He could actually feel slim fingers raking through his hair and not in the way that he enjoyed when Severus would do it.

"Of course Xenia, he ain't pure so he gotta fight. It's a bit of a shame though, I mean, he's not bad on the eyes if you ask me. I definitely love this hair… too bad we have to shave it all off."

Harry would have to look at his priorities a few days from now because he was fighting for consciousness to stop the women from shaving off all of his precious hair. He spent years growing it, combing it, washing it and not because he liked his appearance with long hair but because Severus liked it. He remembered when the man would help carry him off the training field and wash him off with water, soap, and healing potions galore.

"_You're hair has grown quite a bit Potter… it is no longer a messy mop at least. I believe this better suits you. I, for one, have always enjoyed long hair."_ Harry could almost feel the long fingers digging into his scalp and he could hear the velvet, rumbling tones of the man he enjoyed. He had grown his hair for Severus and he'd keep it long even if the man had been… had been murdered in cold blood. His love for Severus would never go away.

Echo let out a small shriek as the rough hand she was looking over suddenly clamped on her wrist, twisting it sharply to force the scissors from her grasp. Her brown eyes widened to completely necessary proportions as she found herself staring into the green-blue eyes of the soon-to-be fighter.

"Xenia, he's up, he's up! Hit 'im with something, he's tryna kill me!" Echo shouted for the other woman, throwing out her hand.

"Don't cut my hair," the man growled, glaring harshly at her. He released her hand, not willing to hurt an unarmed woman but that didn't stop the hard object from slamming into the back of his head. Harry found himself back into the arms of darkness only now he knew that he was going to awaken with a killer headache and to a fight.

(**)

Cheering.

That was the first thing that Harry was aware of as he groaned into consciousness. There was loud cheering above him that slammed into his head and made the pain double and there was also the shining light that tried desperately to blind him. Harry shifted and placed his arm in front of his eyes to ward away the light.

"Hey, guy, we have to hurry up and get you ready. Wake up!" a voice stated rather forcefully. Harry frowned and blinked his eyes open to see a rather dirty floor right before him. He felt odd almost exposed in a sense if he was honest. He rolled onto his back and looked curiously around the room he found himself in. It wasn't a room but a cage. It was rather large cage with a mirror in the corner above the smallest sink Harry ever had the pleasure of seeing. There was a bed but it was about two feet away from him and, idly, Harry wondered why he wasn't on it.

"Oh thank you, you're up. Now we can be on time! Okay, grab your wand and come on," Harry turned his head to see a lean woman with shortly cropped blond hair and green eyes that nearly ate her entire face. Her full pink lips were stretched into a relieved smile while her tanned fingers held onto the cage's door and she began to ease the iron door opened.

"Where… where am I?" Harry rasped. His throat felt as though he hadn't had a drink of water for days. Harry pulled himself to his feet and stretched out the kinks and knots that were really bothering him. As he cracked his back, a gust of wind slapped him in the stomach and caressed his groin. It was this wind that alerted Harry that he was completely naked as the day he was born. With a blush and a gasp, Harry half crouched and covered his essentials from the slightly amused green eyed gaze.

"Where are my clothes!?" Harry demanded, sitting on the bed and folding into himself a bit. She looked too amused and too much like a predator for Harry to feel even slightly safe around the blond. He looked around the room and spotted a pair on thin trousers folded neatly on the edge of the bed and his wand laid diagonally across it. He grabbed his wand and used magic to put his pants on so he wouldn't expose himself to the woman again.

"I don't see why you're so shy, you have a wonderful physique. I was the one that washed you after all. Although I'm rightly sorry about the blow to the head—you were really hurting her. My name is Xenia by the way," the woman apologized. Harry faintly remembered a woman trying to cut his hair off and him twisting the scissors from her hands in a foolish effort to remain with his long locks. The young man dragged himself over to the mirror and noted that his hair was still long but there was something new about it.

A white streak that started from his left temple and darted down the side of his hair distracted him for a bit. Well, stress was pretty bad but then he noticed his eyes. They were half green now, a twinkling blue playing at the edges of his iris and reaching upwards until it literally gave him blue-green eyes. What the Hell happened to him? He didn't look older and his body contained the same amount of scars, muscle, and height he had gained. His face looked the exact same…

Severus would probably know the answer but thinking about his dead not-lover made his heart twist in his chest. Tears pushed at Harry's eyes but he forced them back, not willing to cry in front of another living soul. Besides, he had other things to worry about. He had to find out where he was, what he was doing there, and how many people would possibly die before he left.

"Okay, your pants… your wand… what am I missing… oh!" Xenia snapped her fingers behind him. Harry looked over his shoulder curiously to see a simple silver ring in the middle of her palm. She leveled it to her gaze and tapped sharply on it thrice with her wand. Harry staggered a bit as a wave of magic splashed onto him and concentrated on his neck. To his horror a simple silver collar now decorated the innocent limb. He immediately began to pull at the collar, not even thinking of going for his wand but the collar merely grew hot under his fingers until he was forced to let it go.

"What the Hell is this!?" Harry demanded as he picked up his wand and tried to attack the woman. He didn't do anything too harsh in risk of killing her and being bombarded with guilt but he was going to hex her something fierce… or at least that was the plan. Not even the tiniest of sparks came from his wand however, something that felt like a bolt of electricity raced through his veins. Gritting his teeth to stop the cry of pain, Harry fell to his knees and panted at the dirty ground below.

"The collar stops you from hurting me and others with magic. It also teaches you obedience with punishments such as trying to attack me without being a threat against your master," the woman waved her hand before tilting her head at him. Harry continued to bow his head, glaring a fire into the ground as the woman spoke of things that he didn't understand. Xenia scoffed above him. "Come on, you're at least twenty and you're not pure so there's no way you could not have gone through this at least once!"

Of course this statement made Harry lift his head. She didn't sound as though she was mocking him but rather that she was confused right along with Harry. Nothing was making sense, what in the world would make her think that she had ever had a master!? And, why didn't she recognize him as Harry Potter? She had yet to say his name, probably because she didn't know it but that was impossible. She knew magic, she sounded as though she was from the UK so she should know The Boy Who Lived.

Harry felt like growling at her because he didn't understand what was going on when he thought he had had a good idea. For some strange reason he had thought that he had been captured by some strange enemy, perhaps Malfoy Sr. and he was practically okay with that because he knew that his friends would help him or that he could get out on his own as he had usually done. However this was something completely different, something foreign and something that Harry found himself not prepared for.

"Come along. I'll explain everything but that's only because you seem genuinely confused," Xenia sighed and began to walk away. Harry got to his feet, eager to learn of his situation (he knew it would be bad based solely on the fact that nothing good ever happened to him). He easily kept by her side even though she walked faster than absolutely necessary. As they walked, he noticed that they passed more cages and cells with witches and wizards of all ages although none of them seemed very confused as to why they were there or even worried. They sat on their beds or paced the room idly, glancing every now and again at a large clock implanted above their heads. Harry wondered what they were each waiting for.

"Okay, come along so we can scan you," Xenia snapped her fingers. Harry pursed his lips and he would have denied her but his collar began to tighten. He swallowed hard and yanked at the material but it squeezed his fingers and neck until not a single breath could be snuck past the material and tears pooled in his eyes. It was going to kill him! Harry stumbled forward to the woman and took great gasps of air as the collar loosened and allowed him leeway.

"Here's the new one but keep the noise down so I can explain some stuff to him, okay?" the woman ordered, bringing to Harry's attention the six other people in the room. It was a mix of men and women who immediately came towards Harry, some with their wands out and others with rags and clothes. Harry tried not to jerk around as much and kept his eyes on every person touching him which was tiring but worth it as he had to growl several times at an individual intent on cutting his hair.

"Okay, come on, you gotta listen before we throw you out there and you get killed," Xenia snapped her fingers. Harry immediately turned his attention to the blond and tried his best to listen and absorb everything she told him.

"Well, anyone that isn't a pureblood is a slave," Xenia stated simply. Harry felt his mouth drop open and his stomach actually twisted sharply. Had he somehow gone into the future and this is what Voldemort had done? Had he not killed the monster during their final battle!?

"Kid, what do you look so sad? It's been this way since the beginning. I mean muggleborns get the chance to not come here and simply be muggles but most chose to come anyway and fight for their chance at being a Butler," Xenia explained.

"Butler?" Harry tilted his head and went a wayward glare as he caught sight of the man still holding the scissors. He wondered if the redhead would ever get the hint that he wasn't going to let his hair to be cut. Probably not since he was closing in again but stopped as Harry growled once more.

"Yeah, a butler. You help your owner in any way they want that does not break the law. You protect them from anything that poses a threat even if it means having to die for them," Xenia simplified before she strode to the redhead and plucked the scissors from his fingers and gave him a firm smack to the back of his head. The redhead pouted and stomped off into a corner, yanking irritably at his collar on the way.

"Normally we cut your hair so that you won't die faster during the Fight and so that your face can be shown if you live through it," Xenia explained although she banished the scissors. Harry scowled and ran a protective hand through his long locks but he recognized that they would keep their distance from the strands.

"You keep talking about a fight and me dying but I don't get it," Harry insisted. Xenia pinched the bridge of her sharp nose and sighed loudly.

"Listen, kid because you are not a pureblood but you show a strong magical core, you will fight to be a Butler. As a Butler, you have more magical freedom than any cook, slave, or entertainer. You have control of your body and mind," Xenia explained. Harry nodded although he did not intend on being a Butler or a slave of any kind. He wouldn't let someone command him around like a puppet. It reminded him uncomfortably of the Dursleys only he knew that whatever owner—

No, Harry would not think like that. He would not even consider having an owner or fighting to be a Butler. He slid on the pants that a new, better fitting pants that a man had handed him. As he pulled on a shirt, he found himself with only Xenia who was rounding behind him to pull his hair into a low sitting ponytail.

"What happens if I don't fight?" Harry folded his arms and looked over his shoulders to peek at the woman. Xenia smiled sadly and placed her smaller hands on the small of his back before placing her lips on his ear.

"Then you die," she whispered.

(**)

The End

Too much talking, so much talking. Next chapter will be AWESOME... maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, let's get this third chapter going on! I have to tell you guys something.

P.S. I know that slavery wasn't like this and it didn't exist some thirty years ago… don't piss on my fic, okay?

(**)

The boy scrambled into the beaten down house, his onyx eyes wide as he searched for a place to hide. He knew that it would be of no use, his fate was sealed the moment he was conceived and now that he was fifteen without his mother to protect him… he had enough knowledge to be Tested and sold off like common livestock. There was nothing he could do about it, nothing that anyone could do or would even try to do. No one cared about people like him. The young man shook his head wildly and let out a low growl.

He would not allow himself to be tossed into slavery because his mother decided to fall in love with a brute of a muggle! That life would be nothing but being a pleasure slave even though his magical ability qualified him to Fight but even slave buyer/seller knew that no one would buy someone so skinny and 'sickly' looking for a Butler. The best that life would hold for him would be a kitchen or some lowly errand boy for some business woman/man and the worse was repeated rapes that would slowly but surely break his psyche.

The teenager whipped out his wand and began to mutter under his breath, feeling the magic seep through his wand and wrap around his own tongue so that it could engulf the entire house and his very being. No one would find him, no one would see through the shadows. Anyone that came through that door would be blinded by the darkness he called upon.

The pale youth wiped at the tears that had fallen down his cheeks without his knowledge and set his heart to stone. He hoped that whoever came after him did not expect to easily take him because he would put up the world's greatest battle. The consequences of resisting could burn in the hottest ring of Hell along with anyone that came through that door to force him into slavery.

(**)

Harry dodged a hex aimed at his face, recognizing it as a very nasty blinding hex then he rolled sharply to the left to avoid a descending foot. Some of these people were quick—quicker than he would have expected from anyone much less wizards that relied on their wands too much for comfort. He realized that magical means wasn't the only way to fight, he fought with swords and fists but this was insane and much more brutal. Even in the war, the duelists that he fought did not fight with this intensity!

If Harry was not sure that Severus would kick him out of the afterlife for being such an idiot, he would have stayed still and allowed a stray spell either kill him or disable him as most of the spells seemed to be doing. He would have happily allowed himself to die but he couldn't. He could already hear Severus shouting at him to fight back, to not die in this arena.

"Sectasempra!" Harry hissed after dodging the killing curse. The man who had sent the unforgivable went flying, long gashes on his arms and face. Harry was sure that the man wouldn't be getting back up, not that he had the time to worry.

He threw himself to the ground to avoid a blow from the back and scrambled to his feet to avoid another stomping foot. Honestly, what was with this person and kicking!? He glared hotly at the bald opponent and searched for more enemies only to realize two things. One: none of the other fighters stood, either completely still in their death or groaning in pain. Two: Harry just noticed that his opponent was a woman; her hair had been sheared off like most of the others (except for Harry of course).

"You are a very strong combatant," the woman noted, her brown eyes raking over Harry's face with approval. Harry grunted and held his wand out in front of him, his mind throwing up thousands of spells he could use that would knock her across the arena and make sure that she never got back up. However, he doubted that he would be fast enough and even if he was, it was not his desire to permanently hurt anyone which is what those spells would do. The woman didn't even operate with her wand, instead using her magic to make her feet faster and her hits harder. She did complicated gymnastic movements that made it hard for anyone to hit her with a spell and difficult fighting moves that were hard to defend against.

"I got a plan and you don't know it," Harry suddenly taunted low under his breath in a singsong voice he used to annoy people (Severus), a smirk coming to his full lips. The woman raised a brow in a fashion that reminded him uncomfortably of his lost love and of another person… a girl with wild curls. He shook away the thoughts that came up to drag him under into a sea of despair. Everything was reminding him of Severus, everything echoing of the man as if he were right there and he just needed to see him and the thought of his friend since he was eleven…

Harry growled low under his breath and began to chant swiftly, the words sounding like unintelligible mumblings more than very serious spells. His opponent suddenly dashed forward, her fist raised to quickly knock her younger opponent unconscious only for her body to stop without her permission. The woman gasped and looked down, eyes wide at the sight of foreign symbols and the large, glowing circle lighting the dirt they stood on. Her eyes turned to the young man grinning a grin that nearly split his face. Harry hadn't even thought that he'd be able to do it!

"You've walked right into my circle. I learned from a very wise man that our magic is not the only type that there is. A very prestigious clan that once existed in the Olden 'Hidden Countries' had a very… _destructive_ ability," Harry began to pant a bit at the amount of energy this particular spell was taking. He quickly ran to the woman and brought two fingers out, aiming for whatever nerves he knew by heart seeing as he couldn't see them as those from the Hidden Countries could. The woman let out short screams as swift bursts of magic shot through her pressure points. Harry slightly regretted taking out the woman but he had to do this if he wanted to live and figure out a way to fix whatever he had done.

"Eight trigrams… eight palms!" he hissed, bringing a flat palm to the middle of her chest and directing a giant blast of magic that sent her flying backwards, already unconscious. He stood for several moments, trying unsuccessfully to drown out the thundering applause that surrounded him and his dead/injured opponents. These people were horrible, celebrating these battles as if they did not have people's lives in the balance. He wasn't sure how he would do so but he would find a way to make the bastards think differently one way or another.

Harry fell to his knees, exhaustion a warm blanket over his conscience. He landed on his side with a grunt and watched hazily as a group of people, most with collars much like his, running out and gathering up their bodies quickly. Merlin, he was so tired…

(**)

The house was entirely quiet. It was not a natural quiet that came upon an empty dwelling but a forced silence that sent chills up the blonde's spine as he stepped over the threshold. The tingle of magic that hissed at him, almost physically attacking him, caused the grown man to frown deeply. He squinted into the dark, not being able to see more than several inches in front of himself even with the lit wands behind him and his own within the house. Speaking of behind him…

"I will continue on my own," he said curtly, silver eyes wracking over the formally dressed men. They were men of the law, dressed in their bright red robes and their wand directly in front of them, prepared for a battle. They too knew the magical prowess of the one they were searching for but it was only the blond that was confident in the fact that he would not be harmed. Or he was senile in his old age and thought himself above spells that would cause bodily damage.

"He's frantic and dangerous right now, Malfoy. We should go along with you," one of the men warned him. The blond looked as though he honestly wanted to roll his eyes but he was much too rich and proper for such a juvenile gesture so, instead, he simply shooed the men away as if they were nothing but wayward children. His silver eyes combed through the men before reaching in and pulling out another blond, shorter and younger than he but with the same facial structure and eye color.

"Lucius, come along, you are the one that wished for this to happen now it is time to own up as a man and take responsibility," the older blond nearly scolded, his lips pressing together as the younger man attempted to step back into the group of law enforcement. The younger blond sighed and willingly came into the house just as the older, obviously his father, glared as the enforcers of law seemed to be thinking of disobeying him.

"If you cross that threshold, I will not attempt to protect you from any dangers you walk into," the man warned before dragging his son a little further into the house, beyond the frame of the door. The men looked amongst themselves. Lord Malfoy really must be senile to believe that they couldn't handle themselves seeing as they were Aurors but, before they could say as much, the door was slammed with a powerful sound and they found themselves literally flying away with the force of magic that hit them upon locking the door.

"What are you doing here?" a young voice hissed out, bouncing around in the darkness and completely confusing the two men. The shadows around them pressed their cold fingers into their bodies and caressed them with lies.

"We are not here to harm you, child. Now stop this act of desperation and come out," the older blond ordered in a no-nonsense voice that he used on his own son when he was but a child. A quiet scoff echoed around although the two could tell that the child was frightened and angry.

"I won't become a slave. I will fight to the death before I let that happen. Goodbye Mr. Malfoy," the boy murmured. Malfoy Senior tilted his head, wondering if the child really thought that he would leave. His son suddenly let out a gasp and he found himself with a sixteen year old glued to this side, wand lit up to show what had startled him. Lucius' eyes widened as the floor they stood on seemed to twist and meld together.

"What are you doing?" Lucius demanded, pressing into his father and turning shocked eyes as the man pressed back. He noticed that the light was on his wand also, showing that the floor was slowly melting, ready to swallow them up and do only God knew what to them. He jerked his foot away and stumbled backwards, nearly landing in the sinking floor.

"Lucius, concentrate on keeping still while I reverse the spell," his father stated in a harsh voice.

"Father, are you _insane_!? Do you _know_ who we are dealing with? It doesn't matter if we reverse the spell because something more dangerous will be around the corner," Lucius could admit that he was panicking as the word vomit left his lips like a volcano although he somehow willed his body to stay still. He knew that it wasn't simply blind panic leading to his words. The young man that they were after truly was very dangerous and it was being proven as the older Malfoy clenched his fist and nearly snapped his wand with the vice grip he held on the wood. His lips were moving as fast as possible and a soft green light was swirling from the tip and to the floor that had swallowed them up the waist at the moment.

"I'm done," Abraxas announced suddenly and the floor stopped swallowing them and they were soon on their feet once more. Abraxas blinked in the darkness, not seeing a point of lighting his wand. He appreciated this kind of magic, the kind of stubborn blood that ran within the veins of the frightened boy but this had to end before someone was hurt. The Aurors were already assaulted and they might press charges if they're feeling vindictive.

"Now, listen to me very closely boy," Abraxas started.

(**)

He was actually only standing two feet away from the blond duo. He could see them perfectly in the magical darkness, the shadows bending to his will. He honestly didn't want to hurt his friend and friend's father but he would not become a slave. The quicksand spell would have simply deposited them into the basement where another spell would have catapulted them into his neighbor's house. However, if they continued within the house, he would be forced to bring out the stronger spells in which case they might very well be harmed.

"You will not be a slave," the blond man stated firmly. Severus let out a choked sound and an unholy anger spanned within his chest. This man dared to get his hopes up? He dared to mock him with words they both knew could never be true!? His magic shot out and the shadows became almost suffocating as they raged along with his own anger.

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" he thundered, his voice shaking the house on its foundation and windows blowing out. He glowered at the men, knowing that they could feel him although Abraxas didn't so much as flinch at the destructive anger directed at him. He raised a brow, stormy eyes searching the shadows as if to look him in the eyes so that he could reprimand him and make the scolding that much more real.

"You will not talk that way to me, boy," the blond warned tersely, remind the young man that he would never be old enough or strong enough to speak to Lord Malfoy in such a way. "And I do not lie. You are not the son of Tobias and Eileen Snape. You are the son of Eileen Prince and… me thus making you a pureblood."

The teenager paused, the shadows suddenly retracting in his shock and merely wrapping around him. The two blondes blinked in the sudden light before focusing on the darkness covered lad and they could each feel his onyx eyed gaze on them, searing their skin and searching their faces.

"I am you father, Severus and you are a pureblood," Lord Malfoy said firmly, straightening his shoulders. He had not wanted to admit that he was anything but perfect but to allow this talented child become a slave simply because he wanted to remain unsullied in the eyes of the public was not only cowardly but simply wrong. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding out his hand. The shadow drenched boy let out a whimper and stepped backwards, disbelief echoing from his form.

"Come now Severus. Come out and we shall take you home. You're safe with us Severus," Lucius crooned as if speaking to a wounded, dangerous animal which was close enough to the truth. An odd noise came from the boy's throat as the shadows dripped off of him with hisses and he stood there in a shirt much too big and eyes wide with hope. Then the boy was splayed out on the floor in a dead faint.

"Lad tired himself out with the use of Shadow Magick. I will have to talk to him about that… Merlin, I already sound like a father to the child," Abraxas sighed as he stepped over to the small teen. He gathered the boy up in his arms and picked him up, noting how light he was, "Let's take Lord Prince to his new home."

(**)

Harry stared up at the dusty ceiling above his head as he laid on the uncomfortable cot. He had heard that the woman he had defeated would be sold off as a pleasure slave from a neighboring slave before the worried woman had fallen asleep. He could feel the guilt nibbling at his toes and trying to break through his psyche. He tried to tell himself that there had been no other way and there really hadn't but that wouldn't stop him from feeling like a complete monster for sentencing that woman to such a fate.

If he had forfeited… well, he wasn't sure what would have happened to him but he knew that she would have at least had this higher ranking of slavery. He couldn't imagine the horrors such a strong spirit would face simply because he had been a bit quicker to finish a blow. In reality, he was sure that if he hadn't thought of the spell that she would have won.

Harry gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly, trying to ward away such thoughts because they were not helping. They were making him hate himself and think of Severus. His heart twisted in his chest. He had wished that he could be with his love once again so that he could tell him how he felt and be happy but no. He landed in… he didn't know where or when he was. Perhaps he had evoked some insane, ancient spell that altered time and he had never been born thus leading to the enslavement of the mudblood race. Harry felt dread fill his body. He wasn't that important… was he? Surely there would have been another person that would have taken up the mantle to defeat Voldemort! Oh God, what if this was all his fault!? What if he had launched himself into some dimension in which Voldemort succeeded and now…

"Did you even sleep?" a familiar voice of one un-collared blond came to his ears. Harry shifted his head and turned his head to see Xenia leaning casually against the bars that made up his cell. Harry longed to pull the woman through the open spaces and hex her until her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She stood there, all nonchalant and mighty, looking down at him as if he belonged in this cell. Earlier he had thought that her eyes held pity and sparkled with the sadness she felt for him and the others in these cells but no, now he saw her true face. She didn't care anything about them.

"You sell us, don't you? You're the puppet master of all of this," Harry said quietly, his eyes burning with his fury and he wished that he was all powerful so that he could break this collar and destroy this woman especially as she flicked her short bangs out of her now narrowed green eyes and smirked at him.

"Now chap, that's a little slow of you. Why did it take you until now that someone had to be running this show? It's not as if I made the law, I simply follow it and make a lot of money doing so," she retorted with a roll of her eyes, "Now get up—it's time to do the bidding. Make sure to wash your face and stand up straight so that we can find you a nice, new home."

(**)

The End

No, no Naruto going on, it was just my lack of creativity. I already know that it's 8 trigrams, 64 palms (or higher if your badass) but how could Harry do that when it's not in his blood? See, I think things through sometimes.

Um… comment and show some love? Or like… hatred will hurt my feelings but you gotta do whatcha gotta do.


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: just… odd stuff… I guess…

(**)

Harry was not sure what they had put in the water and sandwich that they had given him but he was absolutely sure that it had to be the most powerful hallucinatory drug in the world because he could not believe what he was seeing at that moment. It was as if the world had slowed down and everything disappeared in a single blink as he heard a familiar voice that would soon become a deeper, smokier purr with age but now it was simply melodic.

"Lucius, I do not understand why I must… purchase a Butler," the boy said and, as if it were meant to be, Harry heard the words carried by the wind and his head snapped up, ignoring the harsh look he was given by another Butler. He had scanned the crowds and, like a magnet to metal, he found him. It was him. He was staring at Severus Snape. He was not sure how he was standing there in the flesh, his head cocked up to glare at a blond male but it was Severus Snape. There was no mistaken that long silky black hair, paper-white skin, and the burning onyx eyes that jumping over the people suspiciously as if one of them would lash out and hit him. Harry growled at the thought of anyone daring to touch Severus.

"Severus, I have already told you this and yes, I believe that you can handle your own with your level of magical skill but even you are weakened after a stint. Just last week when you were trying to run you fainted and stayed unconscious for _three_ days," Lucius stated, placing an arm around Severus' shoulder. Harry was never one for subtly, actually it was quite often that he was called 'brash' or 'uncouth' so he had no way of taking his eyes off of the wandering youth, drilling his stare into the surprisingly youthful face of Severus Snape. It wasn't very surprising when the young man froze and began to look around, probably trying to locate Harry.

(**)

It was odd, being stuffed into these nice clothes that actually fit rather than the pants that were too short and the shirt that was too big and the cloak that was too thin that he was accustomed. This was the first time that he walked outside in the Fall season and found himself not shivering due to his thin body and the lack of warm clothing. He shifted his toes within the dragon skin boots that they had purchased with his newly inherited fortune. He was very well off—almost the richest young man in Britain if one did not include the Malfoys and Blacks.

"Lucius… where are we going?" Severus blinked up at the tall blond. They were walking in a busy market that he had never seen but there were vendors everywhere and they hadn't even stepped into the large stadium like center right ahead that seemed to have even more people bustling back and forth. He was not one for crowds, always paranoid that someone was trying to hurt him which was usually the case. Severus frowned as someone bumped into him and laced his fingers with Lucius' long digits. He had always been close to the blond, always felt as though he were being protected more than the fact that he knew how to brew complicated potions and had a nasty streak a mile wide. Lucius was literally his brother by blood and it simply felt natural to trust him and hold his hand so that they would not be separated… and so that Severus did not accidentally hex someone.

"Severus, as Lord Prince, you will require a Butler or two if you want traditional. The Prince family has a lot of enemies and with someone as young as yourself, you are bound to have a few assassination attempts," Lucius answered easily. Severus frowned as they stepped into the stadium like center and he realized that they were in the slave district. It was the place that he would have been brought to, collared like the men and women within the cages like some kind of animal placed on display. Severus' grip on Lucius' hand tightened—he had nearly been one of the sex slaves standing on the tall stage they were passing, eyes scared and naked body trembling as lewd, disgusting men called out their prices. He wasn't necessarily pretty but he was small and thin—almost girly in a sense (not that anyone would say it to his face) and no amount of strong magic or nasty hexes would stop them from labeling him as 'toy'.

"I do not want to be here," Severus said firmly, stopping in his tracks. Lucius sighed and turned around, looking down at the short fifteen-year-old. He knew that the boy had just gone through a terrible period after his mother died and he came to his own conclusion that he'd be sold off as a slave and then it turned out that his best friend was actually his half-brother which meant that there wasn't a way in all the Hells that he'd be a slave (which led into the realization that he'd been lied to his entire life and had lived in fear for no reason).

"Severus—," the blond was cut off by Severus' firm head shake and he began to walk away but Lucius caught the boy's hand anyway and forced him to turn back and around face him. The onyx eyes wouldn't meet his, instead opting to jump around at the people surrounding them. Lucius winced, knowing that his father was partially to blame for the suspicion that Severus treated everyone with. The boy was probably coming up with scenarios of Lucius pushing him into the arms of a merchant or auctioneer in exchanged for a bag of gold. Lucius snorted at such an idea—as if he would allow some dirty slave driver or gold loving she-bitch to touch his younger brother.

"Lucius, I do not understand why I must… purchase a Butler," Severus finally said carefully. Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. He hated repeating himself but Severus was still getting of a traumatic time.

"Severus, I have already told you this and yes, I believe that you can handle your own with your level of magical skill but even you are weakened after a stint. Just last week when you were trying to run you fainted and stayed unconscious for three days," Lucius reminded that young man. Severus frowned deeply at being reminded of his very dangerous attempt to avoid the law. He had to apologize to the Auroras even though they weren't even that badly injured; a few scrapes and bruises was the most of it. It was simply their pride that an illegitimate pureblood child that hadn't been granted access into Hogwarts at 11 could make them fly like a bunch of drunken pigeons. Of course he had to apologize once more when he stated his opinion.

However Lucius was correct. He was in great control of spells, could master any one that he set his mind and eyes on but he was not in control of his magic usage. He couldn't stop himself from putting too much energy and usually exhausted himself to the point of a magical coma. Severus opened his mouth to argue with the blond, tell him that there wasn't a way in Hell that he'd get a slave but then he felt a… pressure. It was as if something were trying to bore into his mind, which was ludicrous because he practiced Occlumency religiously so that his would-be owner couldn't look into his memories. This did not explain the fact that he could literally feel eyes burning into his skin and—

There. It was a man with burning, twinkling blue-green eyes that was practically etching a tattoo of his approval into his very pores. Severus tilted his head and stared back at the man, never one to back down at a challenge and he saw that the man was tall—over six feet in fact and Severus could tell even by this distance. He looked to be in his twenties but his long black hair had silver streaks starting at the temples and running until the tips. Severus bit into his lip because, unlike the other Butlers, he hadn't been shaved bald. Even though this man was a glorified slave, his teenage hormones couldn't put aside the fact that long hair was a weakness for him. It helped that Severus could sense power and this man had an abundance of it.

"I want him," Severus pointed, looking directly into the burning half-blue, half-green eyes. He was picking this man out like a kid picks out a toy but he couldn't help it. This slave… this man was going to be near him and it would make everything better. He was the best… he was being auctioned off at that exact moment.

"… strong magic and an even stronger physique! This man will be an amazing addition to anyone's home! Let's start the bid at 1500!" the woman finished speaking and the man that Severus wanted was pushed onto the stage quite roughly but he kept his balance as though he were used to people pushing him. He kept eye contact with Severus, never looking away even as they tore his shirt from his strong body and discarded his pants in the same fashion. He wanted Severus to pick him, he wanted to be a part of Severus' life. While the brilliant child was not sure as to why this man wanted to be in his life, he would make sure it happened.

"1,500!" a woman shouted out, her voice lustful. Severus snarled mentally as the bidding started, the number of people becoming larger as they all fought for the man that was Severus'. The Potions prodigy snarled and pushed his way into the front of the crowd, ignoring Lucius' cries for him to come back. He finally found himself at the front of the stage and made sure his hand was shown.

"200,000 Galleons!" he shouted, making everyone in the vicinity shut their mouths. He smirked and produced a pouch from his inner cloak as he stomped his way up the wooden stairs. He curled his fingers around the thick wrist and tossed the bag of gold at the thin woman, not even bothering to look at her. She was not important to his life and never would be. Then he dragged his newly purchased Butler off the stage and to his staring brother. Silver eyes were large within the perfect face and Severus felt the obscene need to giggle at the silly expression.

"Severus… did…?" Lucius shook his head with a sigh at the brash behavior his brother had just exhibited. He hadn't even listened to the Butler's description much less stuck around to hear if he wanted the tall servant Trained. Lucius pulled his fingers through his silky hair and felt a smile tug at his lips as he observed the man. He was quite fit and looked to be capable although there was something about his eyes that he didn't trust. They half-twinkled much like a certain Headmaster's and Merlin did he hate that bastard.

"Tradition dictates that you send him off for training as a Butler and possibly break his mind until the only thing he thinks and breathes is obeying you but…" Lucius took a quick look at the thoroughly sour expression on his half-brother's face and rolled his eyes, "I have a suspicion that you will not do that so commence in giving him his first Order and sees how he performs." Severus nibbled lightly on his bottom lip, glancing at the tall man with barely any clothing on. He looked rather cold, not that he shivered or anything but Severus could simply sense that he wasn't very warm in the thin trousers and shirt. He shook his head and took his mind away from such thoughts. The purpose of getting a Butler was so that he could be protected and so he could be obeyed without worrying that his chosen isn't some idiot that can wave a stick around very well—if that was the case, then there wouldn't really be a need for Mudblood slaves…

"I need several more servants to run my… manor. I wish for you to… purchase another Butler with extraordinary skills—a female," Severus instructed the man. He had read up on these things when he was eleven and he knew that he would one day become a slave of some kind. There were Head Butlers, servants that cooked, servants that cleaned, and pleasure slaves. Severus would never purchase a pleasure slave, drawing a line in ever doing something of the sort especially to someone unwilling. Very few people chose to be a pleasure slave. Then again very few people decided to fight to the death or near death to be a Butler and risk being labeled a useless 'toy'. Severus pushed back the warring thoughts within his mind and simply stared at his Butler.

"Yes S… S…" the man suddenly gasped, his hand darting to the collar, pulling as the material tightened. Severus glanced at Lucius, not too sure as to what was happening. The man fell to his knees, attempting to pull air to his lungs. He bowed his head and mouthed something several times before it made it out of his lips, "Master…!" Oh… OH! His newly purchased butler must have attempted to call him something not considered 'proper' although Severus was curious as to what the man was going to call him. It was impossible that he knew his name.

"Here is the gold you are allowed to spend," Severus pulled another pouch from his thick cloak and handed it off to the still kneeling man. The man coughed for a few moments before getting to his feet, straightening his shoulders and practically darting off… in the opposite direction of the powerful winners of the Fight who were still being auctioned off. Severus raised a brow but said nothing, turning to his brother. Well, what would they do now?

"Severus… I have forgotten that you skipped a part in this process," Lucius suddenly said, pinching the bridge of his nose although he's not sure if he's doing it because of his stupidity or because of his little brother's. He hadn't been forced to one of these in so long that he had actually forgotten the procedures especially since new spells and technology shortened everything and made it that much easier.

"I forgot to bind him specifically to me, didn't I?" Severus hummed softly completely unfazed that he has done this. There was a step when you bought a slave of any kind in which the slave is branded with the mark of their Master which then causes it so that they have to obey them and only them unless the Master says otherwise and even then they are physically incapable of allowing harm to come to their Master. It used to be that this process was done during the strict training that would break the spirit of the slave to quell rebellions and ensure obedience but such training has been shown that the slave is frightened of all with magic thus making them rather poor guards so it was cut out unless specifically asked for. Now, with the charm of the collars, more people were confident in their level of control and the trial-and-error that taught their slaves rather than cruel men with whips.

"You know if he doesn't come back, you could be executed for treason or some nonsense such as that, correct?" Lucius raised a brow.

"That will not be a problem in the foreseeable future because he is coming back right now with a woman although… is she a pleasure slave?" Severus' eyes widened and Lucius whirled around to see what his brother was staring at. The Butler that Severus had gotten was shirtless, his shirt obviously sacrificed to cover the woman that would have definitely be naked because pleasure slaves did not receive such things as clothing. She appeared nervous, her eyes jumping all over the black haired boy while the green-blue eyed man whispered in her ear in an urgent manner. The woman appeared quite beautiful with large brown eyes and Lucius was sure that her hair was full and brown although it was shaven off at the moment. It was then that Lucius realized what she truly was.

"She lost the Fight—only Butlers that decide to Fight are shaven such as she," Lucius quickly explained to his brother. Severus tilted his head. If she lost the fight then why did his Butler feel the need to get her? Yes, it was possible to use a slave for any purpose especially if they weren't broken or stupid but… a pleasure slave? Severus slapped himself for thinking as such. He would have been no different than her—a skill fighter that would be forced to be some toy, broken in before being handed off from one master to another.

"Master, this woman is extremely skilled, using her magic to strengthen her attacks and her agility—she took out most of the competition and it was only by pure luck and an Ancient technique that I won at all," his Butler confessed. Severus tilted his head and looked over the woman. She was proud confident, shoulders straightened and eyes hard. That were two things that Severus liked and he had no problem of turning to his Butler and smiling at the man.

(**)

If Harry died at this moment, he would have died a very happy man. There were very few times that he had seen his Severus smile. It was usually a rather nasty smile or a tight one that told him how exhausted the older man was but this young Severus he was… the smile he gave was absolutely stunning. It was a genuine, crooked smile that displayed small white teeth and a boyish charm that lightened his young face. Harry could have been struck down by the green Killing Curse at that moment and he would have happily accepted his place in Death's arms if only because he was at his happiest.

"Severus, I have a meeting I must attend but I shall come to your manor tonight and stay the night. Tomorrow morning, we will discuss your summer lessons and your admissions into Hogwarts," Lucius said. Harry was not sure how he felt about this blond. It was obvious that this was Lucius Malfoy, the asshole he knew to be a right bastard but now he was so young and he did not seem nearly as much of an asshole, "Now head home and don't forget the branding—it is rather simple—a little more than a handshake." With these final words, Lucius turned on his toes and disappeared with a sharp pop.

"Hold onto my hands," Severus commanded of the two, holding out his hands.

"With pleasure although I had hoped to choose which part I held," Harry purred, wiggling his eyebrows on an impulse. The boy's face immediately turned a bright pink and he looked as though he would faint from the implications. Harry grinned charmingly while the woman let out a tiny scoff and the two servants each grabbed a separate limb of their small master and they disappeared in that same instance.

(**)

Severus stared at the two adults standing before him, not really sure as to what to do. This was too surreal for him, too much like some messed up dream that he would wake up out of tomorrow or in the next few minutes to discovered he's really a teacher for snot nosed little brats that can't tell the difference between unicorn saliva and starfish oil. He shuddered at the thought of ever teaching any number of dunderheads above the number zero.

"I suppose an introduction would be nice. I can't simply expect you to call me 'Master' all the time and calling you Butler M and Butler W is quite uncreative and taxing. My name is Severus S… Malfoy-Prince. Do not call me 'Sev' or 'Sevvie' or whatever lazy moniker your dull brains can dredge up," Severus glared at the two as he thought of the disgusting things that the neighborhood kids and adults would try to call him. Apparently his name was too old for him but they could all fall into a pit of sharp rocks because his mother gave him that specific name for a reason and it wasn't so that people could butcher it all willy-nilly as they tend to do.

"I would never dream of destroying your name, Master _Severus_ Prince," his male Butler sounded out his name, his tongue caressing each letter while the half-twinkling eyes darkened sensually. Severus felt another blush creep onto his cheeks and he glanced away from the older man, attempting to get his bearings back once more. How was it that a simple thing like that had him blushing like a school girl? He was a rather nasty tempered boy and he could admit to it but a few words from this Butler he just met had him ducking his head!

"Tell me your name and a bit about your history," he turned to the silent woman, distracting himself from the inappropriate Butler that he would not punish mostly because he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I am twenty five years old. As a muggleborn witch, I was given the right to stay in the muggle world or try my chance here as a Butler. I obviously chose this profession because I do not wish to be barren of magic—it's a beautiful ability and if I must protect a Master to keep it then I shall do it. I trained at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for two years and I traveled to Durmstrang Institute and learned there for three years. I rather enjoy reading books on anything I can get my hands on… oh, yes, and my name is Francisca Fantine Granger," the woman smiled softly. The other Butler seemed to choke on the air he was breathing because he suddenly coughed loudly, eyes widening as he stared at the woman.

"Francisca _Granger_?" the man sputtered.

"Yes…?" the woman raised a brow at the man, obviously not seeing anything wrong with her name. In fact she rather liked her name. It was easy to pronounce and never mistaken for anything else, "Did you happen to know my late husband?"

"Late husband?" Severus tilted his head, crossing his legs as he sat in a chair. That was interesting, he hadn't known that slaves were allowed to marry at all unless the master wanted to start a breeding operation in which he chose the prettiest or strongest and mixed them together like one does with horses.

"Yes, Master Severus, I was married when I was nineteen to a very sweet muggle man… and he… he died in a very unfortunate way a year later. I do not particularly wish to discuss his death… please?" the woman pleaded, her brown eyes becoming large and round as she looked at the boy that was now the master of her life. Severus knew that he could force the woman to tell him every dirty little thing that happened in her life but he was not stupid with numbers and he quickly calculated that around the same time that her husband died, she had started her training to become a Butler. It must have been quite traumatic to cause her to take such drastic matters so he turned his onyx eyes to the stunned man.

"My name is Harry… just Harry," Harry half lied and he winced as he waited for the collar to tighten but, surprisingly, it didn't. He let out a mental sigh of relief and continued to speak, "My mum and da were killed when I was younger by some mad man purist so I was raised by my uncle and aunt, both magic-hating-muggles. Um… I didn't know that slavery still existed or that it only includes anyone that's not pureblood."

"Well, it is possible to be a Butler or servant as a pureblood if you are in debt—you become an indentured servant and continue to do it until you are able to pay back your debt and then you can continue if you so wish," Francisca pointed out to the younger Butler. She was going to have to thank him somehow for saving her. She had thought that her life would be under one man or another for the rest of her life until she could buy her freedom. She felt so stupid for choosing this as if she were invincible and there would be no way for her to lose in that arena. It had been a cold splash of reality as she stood amongst the whimpering and crying men and women, stripped naked and put before lewd men and perverted women.

Francisca knew that she had to find the way to thank him however that would have to wait because her first Master, a small child really, stood from the high back chair and stood in front of them. His eyes were hard and soft, bottomless darkness set within a pale bone face. He was strong and a bit uncomfortable but a mask hid this quite well.

"I thank you for those pieces of you. Would one of you like to volunteer to take the… family brand first?" Severus did not like the thought of doing this to human beings but if he did not, not only could they run away but he could get into serious trouble.

"I do not mind being the first," Francisca licked her lips to calm herself before dropping to her knees. She bowed her head deeply, allowing her arm to be wrapped within the oddly warm, thin fingers of her Master. The brand for a Butler, oddly required the servant to pledge themselves first rather than the Master simply shoving their image onto the Butler, "I, Francisca Fantine Granger, vow to protect my Master at any cost, obey his every order, and to give him my all—body and magic."

"I, Lord Severus Draconian Malfoy Prince, accept Francisca Granger as a servant under my control—a protector to my household," Severus said clearly, dark eyes watching as the woman let out a short cry before biting into her own cheek to cut it off. Severus could not see the brand due to the long shirt she wore. However, he could see a winged snake curled around an eccentric 'P' carve its way onto the flesh on the back of her hand.

"Thank you Master Severus for your brand," Francisca panted, placing a soft kiss on Severus' fingers before retreating backwards. Had she been of a lower class servant, her lips would have met his feet instead which Severus was glad she hadn't.

"I guess it's my turn," the green-blue eyed man chuckled nervously and stepped forward. He fell to his knees, positioned as the woman had before him. His brilliant eyes gazed trained itself on the floor in a subservient posture. Severus grabbed the thick, muscled arm and felt their magic touch and swirl around each other. This Butler's magic was different from his female Butler… it felt smoother, stronger, sweeter. It was like drinking a sweet glass of water after being in a desert—it was perfect but that was wrong. That was wrong, right?

"I, Harry, vow to protect my Master at any cost, obey his every order, and to give him my all—body, magic…" Harry's eyes suddenly darted up and Severus was drowning in them, mouth dry and eyes wide with not a single clue as to what to do. "Soul and _heart_."

(**)

The End (for now)

Yay, the woman isn't an OC but Hermione's mother! I know that it sounds a bit chopped off… because it is. I didn't know how to end this chapter but, if it makes you feel better I gave that woman the hardest name to spell. Francisca… kills me each time because of that extra 'c'


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything in case you were curious.

Warning: I completely destroy a scientific theory with my lack of knowledge and overall bullshit

(**)

Harry flexed his shoulders, trying to ease the itch coming from the brand he had just gotten. Francisca had told him that this was normal, just the brand settling in with his magic and integrating him with their Master. Their Master…

Harry sat heavily on the bed that had been provided for him. Questions were still swirling around his head and none of them would get answered if he couldn't find the right person to ask. He had to talk to someone that wouldn't think he was crazy or maybe he could find a library and research on his own… no, no Hermione was more of the researcher than he was. Harry felt his chest tighten as he thought about the woman he saved. She reminded him so much of his curly haired friend and she carried the same last name but Hermione's mother hadn't been a witch and her father was dead.

A sudden thought came to his mind. What if, when he had disappeared from his future he had caused some kind of rift and simply made his own timeline? No, that didn't make sense! Harry was powerful, true but he wasn't _that_ powerful! Okay, he had to think this through and retrace his steps. He had to find out what he knew rather than what he didn't.

Let's start with the Final Battle. What had he done in the Final Battle? He had defeated Voldemort, which he was definitely sure of. A hand climbed to his forehead which felt so light and unburdened, yes, that madman was burning in the fiery depths of Hell. After that, the sorrow of losing Severus overcame him and he wished with all his heart that he could be reunited with him. He had thought that his magic would turn inward and finally kill him but it hadn't. It had sent him to this… time period.

What if this wasn't the past but the future? Severus would be a war hero so many could name their children after him, including other family members. It would make sense with Malfoy because he had thought Severus hated the blond man although he did dot a bit on Draco. No, no, Hermione didn't have any kids but that didn't mean that she didn't have any other family members…

Harry sighed in disgust, running a hand through his sweaty black hair in frustration. Perhaps he could locate a library somewhere within this manor and find a history book. Surely the Final Battle would make its way within history books. Or perhaps he could find something on time travel sending him into a future because this couldn't be the past. Even without his existence… well, he hadn't existed in the first place within that time so why would anything change in the past?

Yes, he'd find a library somewhere in this huge mansion!

"Harry?"

The blue-green eyed man whirled around, mouth already forming around a spell before he realized just who had called his name. It was Severus. The boy (his mind still tried to wrap around that Severus was now somehow younger than him) was standing up feet away from him, onyx eyes quite curious and slightly amused at his reaction. Harry smiled slightly at the boy and opened his mouth to say something but felt the collar began to tighten around his neck. He wrapped at the metal in an attempt to stop it but he simply melded around his finger and continued to constrict around his throat.

"Harry? What is wrong?" Severus inquired as he made choking noises.

"D… don't know what I did…" Harry felt his eyes water and the world began to black around the edges. Severus' brows furrowed in confusion as he calmly tried to think of a solution, before Harry died preferably.

"Francisca!" Severus snapped his fingers, his brow creased in concentration. There was a 'pop' and Francisca was suddenly standing there, completely confused. She immediately saw Harry and quickly put together what had happened. The man was now slumped against the wall, almost on his knees, eyes tearing.

"Master Severus," she bowed at the waist as she addressed the young teenager, "I believe that he did not bow to you."

"Oh that is just silly," Severus muttered. Harry immediately threw himself in front of the boy and bowed awkwardly, nearly crying out as his airways were freed and he could once more willingly drink air. If it was the last thing he would do, Harry vowed to break his wand off in the asshole of whoever created this collar. This was the second time the damn thing nearly killed him and it wasn't like it talked to him to give him a warning as to what he did wrong.

"Francisca, what were you doing before I summoned you?" Severus turned to the woman.

"I was seeing what everyone did in the manor, Master. You have several lesser staffs that have been here for years and House Elves that have been here even longer however it seems as though there is bad blood between everyone and no clear leader has been established1," the bald woman answered.

"That task can be handled at a later time," Severus said firmly, "For now, I wish for you to write a list—a simple and to the point list that explains to Harry as to what he is to do. Do it now while I take him to my bedroom. If we are not there, we will be in the kitchen. Come to us when you are done."

"Yes Master," the woman bowed once more and spun in a small circle and disappeared with a pop. Harry coughed several times, trying to take away the feel of metal against his throat although he knew it was futile. He tossed the sardonic teenager a small grin as the onyx eyes landed on him once more.

"So, your bedroom, Master Severus?" Harry rasped, delighting as a pink blush began up the boy's neck and to his cheeks. Severus did blush with his whole body and it was quite adorable in his eyes. A glare rose within his eyes but he didn't hit or curse Harry which was always a good point in his books. Instead he walked up to Harry and gently hooked his arms under his.

"I am going to heal your neck. Those cuts are quite nasty," he informed the gutter situated mind of his Butler. There was something about this man that seemed so familiar and so right, as if he had known him for years but that wasn't very possible. In the short time he had been allowed in Hogwarts, he hadn't talked to any of the other slaves and he would remember such blue-green eyes—they were literally in half as though someone had run out of green and simply colored the other half blue. He had never seen such a thing and the blue half twinkled like the starry night. And he obviously hadn't been a part of the purebloods. He curled his lip at the thought of those snobby bastards.

"Master Severus?" the deep, husky voice of the Butler reached Severus' dark mental paths. Onyx eyes blinked and glanced over at the other, raising a brow. "Are you alright?"

"I was simply lost in my thoughts. There are some… idiots that caught my attention with my short time in Hogwarts. Speaking of Hogwarts, we are going to purchase a wand for me. I believe Lucius will accompany me also. Both Francisca and you need clothing," Severus answered, suddenly opening a door and entering the room. Harry stopped in the entrance, observing it quickly. It was… Spartan if one wanted to be nice. Plain white walls, plain sheets with a single trunk at the bottom of the large bed. Harry shivered slightly as a draft made itself known and immediately walked over to the fireplace.

"You don't want to catch a cold…" he muttered under his breath as he aimed his wand at the wood. It set fire immediately and soon it was roaring, bringing warmth to the entire room.

"Come sit on the bed, Harry," Severus called over. Harry immediately began his journey over, not willing to be choked once more in the same day. He had enough air cut from his brain already! He settled on the edge of the bed and studied the face before him as the teenager set to work.

"How old are you?" Harry blurted out as the collar came off. He could still feel its presence somehow as if the metal was just for show and the collar had been imprinted beyond his skin but to his very soul. Severus didn't jump at the question, instead he pulled back and looked into his eyes head-on.

There were many people that said that Severus' eyes were cold and hard, glittering like the back of beetles with nothing but malice within their murky depths but those people could all sod off. His Severus' eyes were very expressive, spilling forth his emotions but they were hidden mostly behind his sneer and general nasty acidic words. However, Harry had broken through that and taught himself to be quite fluent in Severus-Eye-Speak (as he loved to call it). This younger Severus had the same eyes but, due to age and probably circumstance, Harry found this Severus' Severus-Eye-Speak to be obvious like an open book. He was confused, probably that Harry had inquired anything about him and slightly curious.

"I am fifteen and will turn sixteen in January," he answered finally and turned on his heel. He strode to his dresser, an ancient but sturdy piece of furniture and brought over the fluffy towel and a couple of bottles that had been sitting on the otherwise bare wood. The room was silent as Severus observed the wounds, poking with a callous finger and watched as Harry flinched.

"You are an imbecile for not knowing what correct conduct," Severus scoffed. Harry smiled gently at the familiar jibe on his intellect coming from those pale lips.

"My Potions Professor used to say that a lot," Harry hummed a bit sadly. In the back of his mind he could still see the dead onyx eyes staring soulless up at him even though the same onyx eyes were very much alive and aware, intelligent and calculating. Harry silently vowed to never, ever allow this Severus, this younger Severus to be taken by the Dark Lord or anyone really. He would die before anyone laid a hand on Severus ever again.

"You studied under a _Master_?" Severus asked, excitement brightening his face. Harry smiled at the almost childish enthusiasm and nodded. It wasn't until Harry's sixth year that he learned that very few Masters actually taught mass classes which meant that they were actually very lucky to have Severus, no matter how taciturn he was.

"Yes, he was a strict, harsh man that did not allow a single mistake in any way whether it be on paper or with practical use," the older wizard stated carefully just in case he was in the past. The last thing he wanted to do was screw things up although, considering the reason that the thin, unstained fingers were rubbing a cooling balm on the flesh of his neck, things were already shot to Hell.

"Potion Making is a dangerous art that not many people appreciate. A single mistake whether in theory or in practice can ruin an entire mix," the black haired youth said seriously. He directed Harry's sight to the balm balanced on the tips of artistic fingers, "Take this potion for example. Had I made the foolish mistake of replacing the Phoenix tears with Unicorn Saliva, this entire potion would have been destroyed. It would have aggravated your wounds and possibly damaged your heart due to the vampire blood that within this particular mixture."

"Vampire blood!?" Harry yelped, nearly falling off the bed. He thought that vampire blood was used only in horribly dark potions and really, unicorn saliva? Tears he could handle but saliva?

"It will not turn you into a vampire nor is my potion dark. Vampires have amazing healing rates and it lies in their blood. The Phoenix tears also have healing properties but they only work coming directly from the phoenix however they still have their purifying factor. Unicorn saliva is so different from vampire blood, so… left field that they would try to outshine one another until it ended with your death. Are you sure that Potions Master was a true one? Surely he would have given you healing potions to make!"

Well, this Severus was just as frighteningly intelligent and skeptical of others intelligence as the one he left behind in his time. That was a nice thing to know. He would hate for anything about Severus to change. He loved the man… the boy?

"I was never very good in Potions. I am better with spells but I had seen the beauty that he was talking about but I don't think he and I were thinking the same thing," Harry smiled a bit wistfully. No, Severus would never think that he was looking at him rather than the swirling colors and chemicals all together to make one potion or another. Severus always got a look in his eye whenever he was passionate and his face lost years as he lost himself to his art. Then he was killed by that murderous bastard, that monster. Harry frowned, trying to push these thoughts away—he had gotten Voldemort back. He got that snake bastard back and he hoped that he burned forever in Hell.

"Foolish wand waving," Severus muttered darkly and sat back. Harry couldn't stop his smile from returning at those very familiar words. Severus raised a brow at the joy his Butler got at his words but ignored it as he began to wipe away the excess balm.

"Let's go to the kitchen, I want you to leave the collar off until tomorrow," Severus directed firmly, handing back the metal collar. Harry nodded, not really in a rush to put it back on his neck, and slipped it in his pants pocket. The young future Potions Master nodded and turned on his heel, his gait a swift stalk that he had yet to master completely in his young age but it was no less effective. Although Harry was not very sure, he decided that staying a few paces back was the safest thing to do.

"Master Severus, I have a rather silly question…" Harry started as they made it to the kitchen. It was oddly empty of life but Severus didn't seem to care as he dove directly to the pantry. The boy ruffled through the items like a mad man and let out a cry of joy as he spotted something he obviously liked. When he turned around, his eyes were sparkling and his arms were full with different items. Harry had to dart forward to stop anything from falling, waving his hand to levitate the other items from Severus' arms and onto the large table in the middle of the kitchen.

"You can do wandless magic?" Severus gasped in awe.

"It is small magic, levitating items, making light and low-level stunning spells. I am learning larger spells but they give me a headache and are not as effective," Harry shrugged although he preened under the amazed look that Severus gave him. He hated being the center of attention but being in the center of Severus' attention was a much different thing especially if it made those pale lips turn up and his very presence to turn brighter.

"It is still impressive," the fifteen year old noted as he sorted through the food he had grabbed. Harry didn't argue with him but neither did he agree, "So what was your silly question?"

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about that. You have a lovely smile," Harry added absentmindedly, looking at the ingredients also. He saw Severus pause out the corner of his eye but again, didn't comment. Instead he walked to the cabinets and looked until he found bowels, knives, and a cutting board. Cooking the muggle way was much better in his opinion. "My question is about time travel—to the future."

"Impossible," Severus responded immediately. Harry looked to the boy in confusion. What did he mean that it was impossible? "The ability to go back in time is extremely dangerous but it is possible. Going… to the future isn't possible because of the Many Universes."

"Many Universes?" Harry hated being confused but he normally got over it because Severus loved to confuse him almost as a way to unconsciously flirt with him. It could also be hopeful thinking but Severus almost complicated his words which prompted Harry to continue speaking with him so it was a possibility.

"Muggles haven't been able to prove it completely however, we could if we tried. Our lives are centered on the choices that not only we make but the choices that other people make. The Many Universes or Alternate Dimensions if you are more familiar with that is a theory that states each that each different outcome not only happens but it changes our lives," Severus explained.

"I am not sure I understand," Harry admitted as he grabbed a knife and began to cut up some carrots. Severus stopped peeling the onions to turn his full attention to him. Harry could tell by the vibrating energy that echoed almost audibly through Severus that this was something that he not only enjoyed but something he studied diligently.

"Say that I am walking down a street," Severus started, pulling out his wand. He waved it silently and a small, smoky image of himself appeared. "Now, in my journey down this road, I reach a fork and have to decide which one I believe is best. However, once I make this choice another universe will be created where I go down the right side of the road. In each of these Universes, something different happens that causes another universe and so on and so forth."

The single scenario doubled into two Severus'. The left one suddenly broke into two more, one in which Severus tripped over his shoelace and scraped his elbow and another where it never happened. The original right side Severus suddenly broke into three, one in which Severus stopped to give someone change, one in which the same someone mugged Severus, and another where Severus continued on without encountering anyone. The original left was now in five scenes, each one with a different Severus for better or for worse, two of them with him alone, two of him with a faceless person, and one of them with him dead.

"I think I understand the theory however I don't understand how this makes time travel to the future impossible," Harry nodded, averting his eyes from the soulless body of the mirage-Severus. It looked too much like him for Harry to not feel discomfort and sadness. He almost breathed a sigh of relief as Severus poked the smoky apparitions with his finger to make them disappear.

"The only reason that time travel to the past is possible is because it's already happened and you are, in fact, only creating rifts in the Universe to create a different Universe in which case you did make all those classes or you did save one person or another from dying. Time travel to the future isn't possible because, unfortunately, you would not be able to be in the correct future. You would see the future in which you are not there which means that it is technically not the future that you want to see," the Prince nodded.

That made absolute sense to Harry. That was why Hermione had turned around, thinking she had heard the noise because they truly had been behind those bushes. The past had already happened, they had lived in the universe in which Buckbeak had already been saved and they simply thought he had died which prompted them to use the time-turner and thus completing the circle.

"Do you think it would be possible to jump between these dimensions?" Severus pursed his lips in thought, bringing a finger up to traced along his lips. Harry had to stop himself from lurching forward and capturing those lips with his. He had been too scared to tell his Severus (the one that he had apparently left back in the other universe) of his feelings but he had a completely new chance to show his feelings. The chance was lost as Severus began to speak once more.

"If it were possible, although I am not sure for I have only tried to _look_ into another dimension which gives me a greater chance than a being attempting to step into the space, you could only exist in one where your other person does not. You would have to enter a universe where you were never created, where circumstances made it so that you do not have a hope of existing. I believe that if two beings of the same person were to coexist in the same dimension, it would cause the entire universe to collapse."

"Excuse me Master Severus," a voice stated, interrupting their conversation. Severus and Harry both looked up to see the other Butler, a scroll and several books in her hands. Francisca bowed and stepped further into the kitchen. "Here are the rules of conduct that I have remembered and several books that I found on the subject. If Master would allow it, I would like to take over the cooking duties while Butler Harry takes these to his rooms."

"Sure," Severus shrugged without care. Harry stepped forward and relieved Francisca Granger of her light burdens and left the kitchens although he threw a saucy wink at Severus, nearly cackling as a light blush overtook his face.

(**)

To Be Continued

I hoped that it was liked and… well, comment? Please?


	6. Chapter 6

Harry placed the scrolls and books onto his bed, ignoring them for the time being. He needed a quick moment to think, to sort out his tumbling thoughts. From what Severus said, it seemed that he was in a different universe and only a miracle would send him back to where he belonged. Harry noted with confusion that he was actually relieved for this.

No, no he wasn't glad that he was in a universe where people that weren't pure were shackled and slaves! Of course he wasn't happy about that but… the green-blue eyed man bit into his fleshy bottom lip and glanced at the door. Outside of that relatively thick wooden door, down a maze of halls was Severus Snape. It was not exactly his Severus Snape but it was one that he could learn to love just as much as he loved his original. It was one that wasn't burdened by the stress of war and spying, one that didn't have a job he hated passionately with people who didn't care about him and his snarky tendencies. It was one that was young and almost happy but still smart, still insulting and still beautiful.

"Harry is there a reason as to why you are just standing there?" an amused voice asked. Harry jumped and blinked, realizing that he had wandered into the kitchen while not thinking about it and now both his Master and fellow Butler were staring at him with curious expressions on their faces.

"You know, just admiring the view," he smiled charmingly as he bowed and grew giddy as the sharp cheeks softened due to the red blush that suddenly overtook the teenager's face. Severus turned around and feigned interest in the bubbling food, quickly grabbing a taste before adding a sprinkle of one spice or another. It smelled absolutely heavenly and it was only common sense that stopped him from drooling like a starved man.

"Master Severus, where shall you take your dinner?" Francisca inquired respectfully of the fifteen year old. Severus threw his head in the direction of the servants table that wasn't too far away.

"He will be taking it in the dining room, of course," an oily voice scoffed from the door. Harry felt a shiver go up and down his spine. He knew that voice and a well of hate began to flow within him as he turned around to see the blond haired man. Lucius Malfoy, appearing to be in his early twenties much like Harry, and yet the same as he had been in his forties. Somehow he managed to keep his smug air and frosty eyes, how he managed to look down on those that were taller than him. Severus did the same thing but it was okay because… well, it was Severus.

"I haven't explored that particular room as of yet but I have a distinct feeling that the table in there can seat at least thirty people. As I do not have guests, except you, I do not see the purpose of sitting at such a large table. The kitchen will do us fine," Severus furrowed his brow in confusion as he didn't see the point of his brother appearing so scandalized.

"Transfiguring should not be hard for you, Severus—you are a wizard after all. As there are usually not too many people over on a nightly basis, most lords and ladies simply shrink the table to a reasonable size so as to not shout from one end to the other. On another note, what is the purpose of having cooks if you do not actually allow them to do their jobs? After tonight, you are not to cook your meals while you possess more than capable servants," Lucius instructed in a voice sharper than he meant. He strode forward to grasp Severus by the arm and take him from the hot kitchen. The male Butler that had been standing behind Severus during the entire transaction seemed to take his movement for a threat for he stepped in between the two immediately.

Harry wasn't absolutely sure that Malfoy would hit Severus because they were apparently siblings but he wouldn't take the chance that the boy would be hurt. He already let it happen once and would die before it happened again. He glared down at the short wizard as the man had the audacity to even try to handle Severus roughly.

"Harry, it is fine. Lucius is my older brother and would not _ever_ harm me," Severus assured him, body pressed tight to his back and lips burning his shoulder blades as the small lips accidentally brushed against them with each word. Harry shuddered mentally with a feeling that had absolutely nothing to do with disgust.

"Protective isn't he?" Lucius said coolly as his little brother stepped around his Butler. There was something odd about this man, something about the way his eyes half twinkled and burned. The way he held himself was odd as well—almost as though he weren't a servant. There was also the stiffness in his movement, the way he bowed mostly as though he was reluctant to show his submission. Surely he would be used to bowing and it was impossible for him to already dislike Lucius personally seeing as they had just met.

"He is my Butler… is he not meant to be protective?" Severus inquired, pulling him out of his thoughts. The older wizard blinked and looked down at the small teenager before humming gently. No, the protectiveness that radiated off this man was stronger than any that he had witnessed. It was as though this man with his long silver streaked hair actually knew Severus, loved him even though they had met just today. Now that thought was just funny and needed to be pushed away immediately. Butlers did not fall in love with their Masters and definitely not vice versa.

"Come let us retire to the dining room in wait of our supper," Lucius placed a gentle hand on the boy's thin shoulder and led him from the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind if I my Butlers go into the kitchen with yours."

Severus opened his mouth to tell the man that, of course he didn't mind even though he hadn't met the two yet. However he stopped short and stared at the lit dining room with its large chandelier hanging high above, sparkling with crystals and the fire dancing within. Then Severus found his eyes drawn to the large table that could easily sit at least twenty people. It was absolutely breathtaking with the glittering fine dishes, sprawling white tablecloth and the wood polished to shining. Never had Severus see something so pretty much less something that he owned.

Suddenly it hit Severus. He owned this. He owned this manor, these expensive clothes, the thousands of books that filled the shelves down the hall and the food that would soon fill his belly. He even owned most of the lives within the mansion when just moments ago he didn't own proper shoes. A shudder ran down Severus's spine and it was all he could do to stop the hysterical giggles from erupting.

"Ah, I see that you have finally realized that you are a very rich, young Lord," Lucius chuckled from his side. Severus jumped, having forgotten that his half-brother was even standing there. The older wizard had his wand out and was shifting the beautiful table, making it shorter but not very different while the chairs walked themselves to the wall.

"How could you tell?" Severus inquired as he was very sure that his mental shields were impenetrable and his face neutral despite the swirling emotions.

"The smile on your face is boarding on insanity, Severus," the man teased good-naturedly. The black haired teenager immediately touched his mouth and felt that yes, his lips were lifted into a smile and he could only imagine how odd he must look for a person that did not smile very often. He attempted to wrestle his facial expression back under control but found it hard as he took his seat on the sinfully comfortable chair and unrolled the creamy napkin to place on his lap.

"Wrapping my head around… any of this will probably take years before I accept it," Severus admitted quietly. For the first time in his fifteen years, he would have everything he ever needed at the ends of his fingers. He would not be cold during the winter or wet in the spring. When he was hungry, he wouldn't even have to leave his bed (his soft, large comfortable bed with an actual blanket). No longer did he have to fear his life being taken over or his mind controlled. He wouldn't be taunted or abused but respected and possibly cherished. This was a dream that he hoped that he never, ever awakened from.

"Trust me that you will get used to it rather quickly. I had an embarrassing accident with a bottle of fire whiskey, the chandelier and several spells gone wrong when I realized just how soon I was to be Lord of Malfoy Manor," Lucius confessed with a light blush. Severus blinked at the confession and, by his facial expression, Lucius could tell that his younger brother was thinking of the many things that could have happened before he settled on the funniest and began to laugh in earnest. Lucius had never seen Severus laugh in the short amount of time he had known him but it was something that he would strive for in the future—it absolutely lit the teenager's face.

(**)

Harry began to ladle the stew into the bowl while Francisca cut into the freshly made bread. From his understanding, they would make a more extravagant meal the next time they were required to cook although he didn't see what the problem was. Severus enjoyed cooking and fancy food wasn't very necessary so why should they make something large for such a small, simple boy? As he opened his mouth to question this, the servant entrance of the kitchen opened. Harry and Francisca immediately whirled around, wands out and eyes narrowed although Harry drew short for he was sure that the two of them looked very, very familiar.

"Good evening," the first man stated almost his blank face didn't let either of them know whether or not he actually believed the evening to be good. "I am Edmund Crabbe and this is Rosario Parkinson. We are the Butlers of Master Lucius Malfoy."

Merlin's sweet nuts! He was looking at Pansy's mother and he would be damned if he said that the two of them didn't looked almost like twins with their upturned noses and bobbed black hair that framed their relatively pretty faces. The only noticeable difference was that this woman had bright blue eyes rather than the brown eyes that Pansy possessed and hers didn't exactly glint nastily with malice.

The man who might be Crabbe's father if he would exist in this dimension shared similarities with the Crabbe he knew back in his world (eyes, general face shape, and nose) but not too many. The biggest difference was that this man had a gleam of intelligence in his brown orbs unlike his exceedingly dull son. He was also extremely handsome with a face sculpted from ice. He was also tall and wide but in a way that was pure muscle rather than fat.

It was rather interesting seeing as the two were killed in the first skirmish that had saved several students that decided to turn away from their parents.

"Hello I am Francisca Granger and this is Harry. Our master is Severus Prince and we are his Butlers. It is nice to make your acquaintance," Francisca covered for Harry's blatant amazement although she kicked him sharply in the calf when he didn't hold out his hand for the others to shake. Harry glared at her but didn't say anything; instead he smiled slightly at the two and greeted them properly.

"I am sorry for my rudeness. It's just that you both looked very much like my dear friends that I had to do a double take. They were both killed as were their parents but the resemblance is so… uncanny," he lied only slightly. Crabbe hadn't been on their side though Goyle had been and he wasn't absolutely sure that Pansy or Crabbe had died. The man and woman raised brows at him but did not comment as there wasn't really anything that they could say to him and his apparent insanity. Harry gave an awkward chuckle and snatched up the dishes of stew while his woman counterpart grabbed the bread, trailing after him quickly.

(**)

Harry wasn't sure if he was in a very lovely dream or a terrible nightmare as he slid the small, opal buttons through their loops one at a time. He kept his eyes firmly ahead on because he knew what would greet him should his eyes travel upwards. He would catch sight of the beautifully red face of one future Potions Master and Harry just knew that he wouldn't control his terrible, dirty urges that told him to claim those pale lips and steal the boy's first kiss then taint the rest of him.

If it hadn't been guessed just yet, Harry was having the pleasure/torture of undressing Severus for his bath. Yes, it was part of his duties to assist the fifteen year old with his nightly baths. As each inch of white skin was revealed to his hungry eyes, he found himself in an intense battle with his brain and prick. One told him to scoop the thin boy up and have his dirty, dirty way with him. The other told him that not only would he be hexed to Hell but he would probably be choked to death despite the fact that the collar wasn't on his throat. The shirt opened and staring him right in the face was quickly hardening nipples and a blush that reached all the way down to the other's hips.

A smirk played within Harry's eyes and he just barely stopped himself from licking his lips like a Grade-A pervert. Severus truly did blush with his whole body. Harry wondered if it reached all the way down to his—

Quick, distract yourself!

"Where did you get this?" Harry blurted, drawing a finger across a bit of raised, slightly knotted flesh that looked vaguely like a stab wound on the boy's side. Severus flinched slightly and his hand shifted to brush against it before jumping back up to hide his hard nipples behind his skinny arms. Concentrate Harry—not on the nipples, you horn dog!

"When I was six, I was running with a pair of scissors and I landed on them. I almost punctured my lung but the man I thought was my father insisted that it taught me not to run with scissors any longer," Severus muttered the last sentence low under his breath in a way that assured Harry wasn't meant to hear it. Harry bit his tongue to hide his anger. What kind of parent would say something like that to a child? Well, obviously Severus's parent.

"What about this one?" Harry stood up as he finished undoing the trousers fastenings although he still didn't look directly at the boy's deliciously red face lest his lust overcame his anger. He pointed to the large injury on the knobby shoulder. It was bright red with pink intersections but to touch it was extremely smoothed like a birthmark but Harry had a suspicion that it was actually a burn injury that was never treated correctly.

"I attempted to go to Hogwarts when I was of age to train to be a Butler. There were several that did not like me for whatever reason their feeble minds came up with. A duel broke out and I was caught with a burning hex," Severus touched the old injury with thoughtful fingers although he went through the task of taking off his trousers and pants with an almost indifferent look on his face. He was so caught in his thoughts that he didn't catch the enlarged pupils and the way that Harry's breath caught in his throat. Severus absentmindedly stepped into the pool like tub and sat directly in the middle, body immediately taking a liking to the warm water and the large green bubbles despite how childish the latter was.

"What happened after that?" Harry inquired, busing himself in picking up the clothes. How is it that this Severus still had such a shitty life when he was truly part of the Malfoy family and a lord of a manor? He had recalled that His Severus had told him a tale of running about with something sharp and how he had nearly fallen down the last two stairs but accidental magic had caught him. Because His Severus did not fall, this one did? Could it be that another Severus not only fallen as a child running down stairs with scissors but also _died _because of an uncaring parent and a punctured lung?

"I was expelled and nearly sent to Azkaban for daring to attack three lords and using dark magic to do it but they dropped the charges due to my 'contrite' apology," Severus sneered, obviously reliving the memory. He lifted an arm to bring up some bubbles and stared at them for a long moment, face relaxing once more. Then he looked over his shoulder at his Butler with his twinkling green-blue eyes and smirked slightly, "The lords should still be there."

Harry smiled with only a hint of nasty at the corners of his mouth for his mind was on the same page as the younger wizard. He picked up the large sponge and began to scrub at the boy's back. When Severus went back to Hogwarts, he was going back with a bang. Whoever said revenge should only be taken by one person?

(**)

"It took you long enough, Severus. I thought that your Butler had drowned you," Lucius snipe the second he stepped into the room, freshly washed and moisturized and dressed for the night. Severus raised a brow at the blond although he didn't ask why the other was in his bed, already under the covers. The man was reading a book and only glanced up long enough to say those words before continuing to read with an obviously engaged expression.

"You know that that isn't possible, dear paranoid brother of mine," Severus yawned. He looked behind him to see said Butler with a ball of light in his hand. Harry was smiling gently at him although his eyes didn't glance at his older brother. "Thank you for accompanying me to my bedroom, Harry. I fear I would have gotten lost. We have a lot to do in the marrow so I would suggest a full night's sleep."

"Of course sir and only with good dreams," he gave him a heated once over which caused Severus to squeak and rush into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and in Harry's face. He heard the soft laughter of the other and just barely stopped himself from another full body blush. The servant man made weird things happen to his body and thoughts but he couldn't lie and say that he didn't like it. Severus pondered these thoughts and feelings as climbed into the too large bed with Lucius, automatically curling into the other for the heat and comfort he got from his brother's presence.

"You knew I was your half-brother when I entered the Great Hall… didn't you?" Severus whispered into the reading man's side. Lucius stiffened for a moment before he relaxed once more.

"I must admit that I was suspicious. I met your mother often when I was a child and she was a very kind woman that my father often talked about weeks after she left to whomever could be coerce to sit there and listen. I believe that she was part Indian correct? You would often slip into Hindi when angered greatly and your mother's skin reminded me of mocha when I was a child. Yes, I do believe that the Prince family is known to have interracial children to introduce different magic and culture into the line," Lucius set his book to the side and turned off the magical lights, throwing the room into darkness before settling down next to the bony black haired boy.

Severus nodded tiredly in agreement as he had looked throughout the library and noticed the different languages, the family tree that held different shades of mostly women. His mother had been a beautiful woman of Indian and English mix with lovely brown skin and onyx eyes that she bestowed on Severus as well.

"You look very much like Sevati but you have Malfoy traits as well—our pale skin for one and mouth shape for next. When you were sleeping, I snuck down to the servant rooms and cast a paternity spell upon you," Lucius continued with a small yawn of his own. It probably wasn't a very proper thing to do but it saved a boy's life so he didn't lose sleep over it. Soon after those very anticlimactic words, the room fell into comfortable silence of two very sleep young wizards.

"Do you know why Abraxas… _father_ didn't want… me?" Severus's words drifted into the cool air like a haunting song that sliced at Lucius's heartstrings. It wasn't fair that someone so young knew the burn of not being wanted and there wasn't anything that he could do to sooth said burn. The blond man sighed and pulled the boy even closer, wrapping his arms around the child. Severus's body shook minutely as he obviously fought control over his body.

"No, I don't Severus."

(**)

To Be Continued

I aim for emotion and hit nothing. I'm oddly proud of this chapter mostly because I didn't lollygag! I hope you enjoyed.

Comment please?


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